


a much needed invention

by couldaughter



Series: Lone Star Dates [3]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Original Character(s), Not Beta Read, POV Female Character, Platonic Date (Or Is It), Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29799678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldaughter/pseuds/couldaughter
Summary: Paul grinned at her, annoyingly handsome as usual. “What, Marwani, are you only gonna talk to us if it’s about you?”“Well, I am pretty cool,” she offered, letting one side of her mouth curl into a smile. “What’s up?”
Relationships: Marjan Marwani & Paul Strickland, Marjan Marwani/Paul Strickland
Series: Lone Star Dates [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143815
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	a much needed invention

**Author's Note:**

> credit for the (LOVELY) banner goes to benjaminrussell and jecari!

Marjan’s phone buzzed. This made everyone in the team immediately turn and look at her, because apparently naptime was no longer sacred, and her social life was the only thing that could possibly get them through until the next call.

“You guys do know that some people get notifs for, like, junk mail, right?” She pulled her phone out anyway, of course, because she was a millennial with a problem, and thumbed it open.

Mateo shook his head. “Nah, Marj, there’s no way it’s just junk mail. I got a sixth sense like that.”

“Are you muscling in on my thing, probie?” asked Paul, raising an eyebrow. Marjan hid a smile in her sleeve and glanced down at her phone screen. It was, in fact, just an email. Some promo offer from the roller rink, maybe, the kind of thing someone who actually had weekends would be all over.

Meanwhile, Mateo was denying all attempts to usurp Paul’s position as The Guy Who Just Knows Stuff, and TK was texting Carlos.

He hadn’t told them that’s what he was doing, but the look on his face spoke a lot louder than words. Marjan really didn’t get how people could handle showing that much emotion all the time. Even thinking about it made her skin start to itch.

She got a few minutes of peace out of Mateo’s denial in the face of Paul’s exaggerated anger, scrolling idly through her Insta comments with her chin resting in her free hand. A couple of the comments were report-worthy, which pissed her off, but mostly they were the usual mix of fire emojis — both for the job and her fit — with a few jokes thrown in for variety.

Her messages were a mix of people she knew and random requests, as they often were, but she tended not to read them anyway. Her mom had started making noises about getting someone to manage her socials, which was such a mortifying idea that Marjan had actually hung up on her the last time she suggested it.

Dad thought it was hilarious.

She looked up at the sound of her name.

“Huh?”

Paul grinned at her, annoyingly handsome as usual. “What, Marwani, are you only gonna talk to us if it’s about you?”

“Well, I am pretty cool,” she offered, letting one side of her mouth curl into a smile. “What’s up?”

“Oh, we were just saying there’s a new rock climbing place opening up this weekend. TK said it sounded like your kinda joint.”

She looked at TK, who shrugged. “Hey, you’re the daredevil on the team. Figured you’d be all over it.”

“I went a couple times, back in Miami,” she said. This was an understatement. She’d spent most of her weekends climbing in the space between high school and the academy, before she had to spend the time studying or on shift. “Didn’t realise there was much of a scene here.”

“Oh, totally,” said Mateo. “One of my cousins works at a place a couple blocks away. Don’t go to that one though,” he added quickly. “She was on shift last week and one of the safety harnesses fully snapped, the guy nearly broke both his legs.”

Marjan blinked. “Uh, wow.”

“That’s a totally different place though!” Mateo waved his hands a little. “This new one sounds sick as hell, they got a whole bunch of, uh, walls. And stuff.”

“Well, I might check it out then,” she said. “I do like walls, and stuff.”

Paul chuckled. His eyes crinkled a little as he did it. Marjan swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat.

\---

The next call got them all started on a non-stop ride through the rest of the shift, exhausting and fulfilling in equal measure.

“Cannot _believe_ that guy survived falling from a _helicopter_ ,” Mateo whispered, loud enough to carry across the locker room.

“Human body can take a lot more stress than you’d think,” said Judd. He stretched his arms above his head, groaning as the joints cracked. “Unless you’re little old me, I guess.” He laughed.

“Old being the big word there,” said TK, shit eating grin firmly in place. Judd snapped a towel at him and rolled his eyes.

“Sticks and stones, Strand,” he said. “Sticks and stones.”

Marjan huffed a laugh and pulled her bag further up her shoulder. She’d packed her favourite tracksuit, the crushed velvet floral one with the comfiest lining of all time, to go with a dark blue hijab mom gave her when she moved states, and was feeling pretty stylish. In a dressed down sort of way.

“Looking good, Marwani,” said Paul, as they walked out to the parking lot. He was wearing a hoodie over a red tee and yoga pants, and somehow looked better than half the guys Marjan followed on Insta did in an OOTD post.

That was part of the problem she was having. Had been having for a while, probably, although she hadn’t admitted it to herself until after Salim had finally left town.

The problem was that Paul was handsome, and kind, and respected her as a person, and she had a feeling that the way she felt when he smiled at her was not exactly how you felt about a friend. Considering how badly she’d dealt with her love for Salim, she’d committed to at least attempting to untangle this mess of emotions before they left her sobbing in the break room.

Step One: read the room. Run it up the flagpole. Probably some other weird metaphors.

“You too, Strickland,” she said, smiling. She paused. “About that place you were talking about earlier…”

“The Tenzing Center?”

“Yeah,” she said. She tugged at her zipper, feeling her nails scrape against the metal. “Uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go sometime.” She winced, but pressed on. “Just, I’d need a spotter, and I don’t know if I could do a three meter trust fall with a teenager earning ten bucks an hour.”

“Sounds great,” said Paul. He tilted his head slightly, eyebrows going up. “You wanna tell me why you look like you’re about to throw up?”

“What? No.” She pulled her hands in against her chest, tangling her fingers together. “I don’t wanna throw up. I trust you. I’m just. Nervous.”

“I’m making the famous Firefox nervous?” Paul grinned, tone teasing but still kind. “I didn’t know I had it in me.”

Marjan scrubbed a hand across her eyes and leant back against the station wall. The brick pressed against her back, sharp even through her jacket and shirt. “It’s not you, really. I just — since Salim, I’ve been thinking. About relationships. Dates, and romance, and…”

“Stuff?” suggested Paul.

“Don’t push it,” she replied, with a relieved laugh. “I’ll lay it out here, man. I don’t know what romance is like. I clearly didn’t know how to figure out how _I_ even felt, with Salim. I don’t think I want to dive right into dating, or a relationship, or whatever, without at least a little bit of practice.”

“Right,” said Paul. He put a careful hand on her elbow. “I’m here for you, Marj, you know that, right? We all are. Woulda definitely taken a hit out on Salim if you wanted.”

“I know,” she said, quietly. The warmth of his hand was distracting, a gentle flame through the fabric of her hoodie.

“Exactly. And if you need practice, hey, I’m willing to practice date you however many times you want.” He paused. “Would you want a chaperone? Because I don’t know anyone respectable enough in Austin.”

Marjan smiled. “Thanks for thinking of it, but… I think maybe having a third wheel on all my dates until now didn’t exactly help with developing a relationship.” It worked for some people, obviously. Just, maybe not her.

“Makes sense,” he said. “Sunday night? I can book a slot, text you the details.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, pushing herself off the wall. She turned, before Paul could head off to his car. “This isn’t gonna be… weird, right?”

“Buddies,” said Paul. “Promise.”

The ease with which he said it made something inside Marjan crumble a little. She decided not to think about it.

\--

Sunday rolled around in no time at all, a lazy morning basically impossible in the face of the mess of anxiety collecting in Marjan’s stomach. Her alarm for fajr got her up before the sun, as usual, but afterwards she crawled back into bed and spent a while staring up at the ceiling while the dawn slowly broke outside her window.

The idea of going on a friend-date with Paul had been a lot less intimidating when she’d suggested it, and even then she’d felt a little bit like throwing up. Now she was on the morning of, she wasn’t sure she’d make it to the Tenzing without having a heart attack.

Her phone buzzed just as she’d dragged herself to the kitchenette to grab breakfast. She swept her braid over her shoulder as she pulled it out of the pocket of her robe.

Paul [11:15]: got us a slot for six. early dinner before?

Marjan bit her lip.

Marjan [11:17]: sounds good. where were u thinking?

She grabbed a yoghurt from the fridge while she waited for a reply. Artificial strawberry flavour burst on her tongue as she licked the back of the lid.

Paul [11:20]: Im a cheap date. Kebabs somewhere?

Marjan sighed in relief. She didn’t think she could handle a sit down dinner at something even approaching a date for a while yet.

Marjan [11:22]: 🔥🔥🔥

Marjan [11:23]: i know just the place

She sent a link to the takeout place and smiled as the next message came in.

Paul [11:25]: Oh Marwani comes in CLUTCH

Paul [11:26]: See you there at five thirty.

Marjan [11:27]: see you there

\---

Paul insisted on paying for the kebabs.

“I’m a cheap date, Marwani,” he said, already handing a twenty dollar bill to the cashier. “But I do have a couple old-fashioned ideas.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m paying for the wall time.”

Paul grinned. “Feminism,” he said, offering a fist to bump. “Respect.”

Marjan bumped it with another eye roll. “It’s just because I’m gonna crush you out there,” she said. “Wouldn’t want you paying to get rinsed.”

“Oh, you’re gonna let me get some climbing in? Kind of you.” He smiled again, a bit more softly, in a way which made Marjan’s insides twist in on themselves.

She took another bite of her kebab, chewing viciously. Paul laughed at, probably, the look on her face, and went back to his own food. He’d got shawarma and fries with a plastic fork to jab them with, while she worked through a more traditional flatbread. She didn’t know for sure that Paul had suggested kebab because he knew it would be easy to find Halal, but either way she appreciated it.

The Tenzing Center was shiny and new, with pristine graffiti on the facade and a fake Banksy over the doorway. The doors swung open cleanly, automatic, and the foyer was a decent size with a mid-twenties guy on the desk.

“Hi,” said Paul, stepping forward. “We got a slot for six?”

“Oh, sure,” said the guy. His nametag, just as shiny as the rest of the place, said ‘Dan’, and he was well informed enough to answer Paul’s polite questions about the new center while Marjan pulled on the elbow and knee pads provided. They’d both listened to the rules, and accepted the printout with the same info, _and_ signed a release form about potential injuries. It was very thorough in a way which was both reassuring and a little terrifying.

She’d made sure to wear a tighter, long-sleeved undershirt and leggings under her tracksuit, but she still appreciated Paul distracting Dan’s attention. She walked back to the desk as she checked her hijab pins. The cap beneath was secure, but her plain black hijab had a bad habit of losing a pin at inopportune moments.

“Hey, Strickland,” she said, tapping him on the elbow. “I’m good.”

He hadn’t really stopped smiling since they’d met up at the kebab place, but somehow his smile increased its intensity for a moment. She smiled back, feeling a little awkward, and went through to the climbing arena.

Her first impression was of the sheer _scale_ of the place. The room was easily thirty five feet high, with walls all the way up, the holds a rainbow of colours and a wide range of shapes. Her fingers itched to try out a couple. The most impressive wall was the incline at the far end of the room, the full height of the room with a stepped overhang that would definitely require the kind of upper body strength she’d been working towards most of her adult life.

She made a mental note to come back when she could bench press another twenty pounds. Right now her chin ups were good but she didn’t really want to fall fifteen feet at a public climb. Too embarrassing, even if she didn’t hurt herself in the process.

Paul nudged her with an elbow. She glanced at him, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Scoping out the competition?” He asked, clearly teasing her.

She raised her eyebrows right back. “Takes one to know one, Paul.”

Paul put a hand to his heart, all exaggerated distress. She giggled, despite herself, and ducked her head to avoid the soft look in his eyes.

“I’m gonna go set up a line,” she said, jabbing a thumb at one of the intermediate walls. It was less busy than the beginner wall behind them, where a handful of climbers were making their painstaking way up about twenty feet, but still not quite as intimidating as the expert one she’d already assessed at the other end.

It was weird, realising just how much she’d missed climbing the second she pulled herself up onto the wall. She tested the hold beneath her left foot, reassured by the lack of wobble, and started to climb higher.

“Looking good, Marj,” Paul called from his space by her guideline. “Keep it up!”

“Don’t distract me,” she yelled back, fingers curled tight around a triangle and a starfish. “If I fall I’m falling right onto you.”

It only took a few minutes to climb up to the top of the wall. She pulled herself up onto the ledge and swung her feet, grinning down at Paul on the ground.

He grinned back. Her stomach swooped again, which was bad enough when she had both feet on the ground.

“My turn, Marwani,” shouted Paul.

Marjan waved dismissively, then pushed herself away from the wall and started her descent. Rappelling was her favourite part of the hobby. It was a lot of work getting to the top of the wall, but worth it when you got to slide down as fast as you liked.

She unclipped her carabiner as soon as she landed, bending her knees to absorb the shock, and turned to Paul, raising the guideline. “Good luck, man.”

“Thanks,” he said, clipping the rope to his harness. “I don’t think I’m gonna beat that performance. Rock star shit right there.”

Marjan shook her head, trying not to smile too wide. “I’m a little rusty.”

Paul whistled. “Well, you crushed the competition anyway. I’d love to see what you look like with all the rust shook off.”

His turn took a little longer than Marjan’s had. She shouted at him a few times when it seemed like he was losing track of the nearest holds, but for a first-timer he wasn’t bad. Marjan tried not to think about how good his thighs looked from her position on the ground.

Firefighters were always physically fit. She shook her head and went back to watching Paul’s back.

He reached the top with a triumphant yell, pulling himself up so he could wave down with a wide smile.

“Nice one, Strickland,” said Marjan. She glanced at the wall clock — already six-forty, after kitting up and taking turns. “You alright to rappel down?”

He gave her a thumbs up, then turned and lowered himself gently onto a set of holds before pushing away from the wall.

Just as he reached the halfway point there was a shout from the other side of the room. Marjan turned, her emergency services senses tingling, and was already moving as she saw someone crumple to the ground.

“Everybody give her some space,” she said, slipping into her crisis management voice as she knelt by the woman on the floor. “You, call 911,” she continued, pointing at someone with their phone already out. The woman moaned in pain, eyes open and clear.

“Hey,” said Marjan, re-focusing. “Can you tell me what happened?” She glanced over her shoulder to find Paul, released from the line, creating some space.

“Got kicked,” said the patient, clearly pissed off. “ _Someone_ doesn’t know how to rappel safely.”

A guy in the crowd put his hands up, palms out. “Hey, it’s not my fault you were stood too close to the fucking wall!”

Marjan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Well, whatever happened, I’m trained for first aid and you probably have a concussion.” Pupils looked weird but it was hard to tell without a better view.

“I got the penlight,” said Paul, leaning into view. He held the light between his index and middle finger, offering it to Marjan across the patient. “What’s your name, bud?”

“Alison,” said Alison. “My idiot boyfriend is Grant.”

“Right, Alison,” said Marjan. She took the penlight and nodded in thanks before clicking it on and shining it at Alison’s pupils. “Yep, definite concussion. Any vision problems or nausea?”

“A lotta both,” Alison moaned. She covered her mouth with one hand and visibly gagged. It covered a little of the bruising that was rapidly forming around her nose and eyes.

“Looks like a broken nose,” Marjan offered. “Maybe an orbital fracture. Paramedics’ll be here soon and get you sorted out — I’m off duty so I think setting it might be a bad idea for my wallet.”

Alison huffed, amused, and lay back down on the floor. Grant, finally helpful, folded up his hoodie to use as a pillow.

“Sorry to ruin date night,” Marjan offered, once the paramedics had Alison safely into the ambulance. Tenzing had offered them a slot once the safety checks were finished, but Marjan was coming off the adrenaline rush and kind of just wanted to go to bed.

“Eh, I think it went alright,” said Paul. “Good company, anyway.” He offered an elbow and Marjan, biting down a smile, wrapped both hands around it.

They were outside the center, looking up at the evening sky. She was used to Austin’s orange haze of light pollution now, but she would’ve liked to see at least a couple of stars. It might’ve matched the twinkle in Paul’s eye, looking at her at that moment.

She had just enough leverage to push herself up and press her lips to Paul’s cheek. “Thanks,” she murmured, pulling back.

Paul smiled at her, cloud-soft. “Any time.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm now two episodes behind on lone star but just imagine that this takes point at some nebulous point in the future from the episode with salim. i think marjan isn't necessarily going to end up doing casual dating, but i did think she might at least want to try it out in a safe environment (with paul, who is incidentally really kind and handsome? did you know that paul is handsome, marjan in this fic wants to make sure you know that) and see how she felt
> 
> title from [an octopus](https://blog.theclymb.com/out-there/5-great-poems-about-mountains/) by marianne moore
> 
> find me on twitter/tumblr @dotsayers, where i may (or may not) be talking about 911 at any given time. just covering my bases


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